


An Accidental Confession

by ButWhatIfImagines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Fluff and Smut, Pillow Talk, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButWhatIfImagines/pseuds/ButWhatIfImagines
Summary: Your relationship with Jamison started off as something playful, but it’s becoming more and more clear how invested the two of you are, especially when someone blurts out a confession in the bedroom.





	An Accidental Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to our Overwatch imagines blog on tumblr.

“—Be careful,” you gasped into Jamison’s neck. “Someone might hear us.”

He was so eager, pushing you against the wall as he left a string of sloppy, aimless kisses along your collarbone. You giggled, your nose pressed softly against his temple while your fingers knotted into his hair. He playfully echoed your giggling, all hands and teeth, nibbling wherever he could.

“Let them hear,” he said, resting his wiry hands on your hips. Jamison then quickly turned his head towards your bedroom door with a longing, impatient expression before turning back to you. “Could—can we—do you—?”

Snorting, you laced his hand with yours and led him to your room. “I don’t think Mission Control’s gonna need me for a while,” you said, slyly locking the door behind you.

“That’s some good news!” Jamison chirped, mirroring you as he clumsily shed himself of his gear. “I’ve missed you, possum.” He reached down for his belt, radiantly enthusiastic as he rambled on. “Really been wantin’ to spend—”

Wearing nothing else but your panties and bra, you stopped Jamison and leaned up to kiss him.

“Missed me? I really couldn’t tell,” you said, looping your fingers around his belt buckle and deftly unwinding the worn leather from his waist. His pants slouched slightly at the release, leaving you to run a hungry hand up his stomach, the other resting on his sharp hip. “I missed you, too.”

He was a silly sight as he shuddered under your touch: a wide, toothy grin and reddening cheeks. Despite all his chest puffing, he always got a little flustered when you were so forward, so _affectionate_ with him. Jamison’s hands ran down your sides until they found the line of your panties, and you could feel the silky fabric catch in his calloused fingertips, as if the two were never meant to touch at all.

“Go on,” you coaxed, angling your hips closer to him. “I didn’t take my clothes off for you to stare at my underwear, Jamie.”

Like a kid in a candy store, he shamelessly licked his lips and inched your panties down until they dropped at your ankles. “You’re always lookin’ so nice,” Jamison said. “Better than anythin’ I’ve seen in me life.”

“Flatterer,” you responded with a snort, unhooking your bra and tossing it lazily to the side.

A whine creeped into his voice. “I mean it, love. I’ve got no reason to lie.” He left another sloppy, though earnest, kiss on your cheek, the pad of his thumb barely grazing the side of your breast.

“I know, Jamie.” You returned a hand to the small of his back as he blushed, letting it trail up his bumpy spine. It felt mildly uneven, the unnatural curve only accentuated by multiple scars and welts earned from years of scraping by in the Outback. “I think you look really handsome.”

You meant every word.

Jamison blushed under the attention and hunched forward as you explored him, burying his face into the side of your neck. ‘Handsome’ wasn’t something that had ever popped up on the list of adjectives he’d been given unless he was the butt of a joke. He chose not to dwell on it as you massaged his arms and traced the outline of his skull and crossbones tattoo.

Goosebumps rising across the planes of his body, he nearly melted under your touch as though reliving the night you two first admitted your feelings for each other, which really wasn’t too long ago. Jamison took your hands into his and kissed them, uncharacteristically gentle and surgical about his movements.

He was taking it slow on purpose, you could tell. It was like the unexpected silence was him still trying to learn how to savor the moment and build his way towards making _love_ , and not just reeling you in for a quick fuck in between the skirmishes he’d scuffle through in his youth.

After all, he wasn’t in the wasteland anymore.

Catching his attention, you said his name and kissed his chest. “You good?”

“Don’t mind me,” he said your name, a soft smile reaching his eyes. “Just appreciatin’ you.”

Face deepening with color, you took his hand. “Let’s appreciate each other here, then.” Encouraging him to leave his boxers behind, you thumped down onto the bed together, a tangled mess of kisses and giggles.

Jamison murmured something into your ear, but it was lost to the sound of you gasping as he snaked his right hand between your thighs. You reflexively tightened your legs together and sputtered out a breathless laugh, crooking your arm against his neck while twisting your hips away. “That tickled—!”

“C’mon, now.” He perked up, peppering encouraging kisses against your mouth. “I can’t follow directions ‘nless you let me take a look at your _blueprints_ ‘ere.” He galloped his fingers along the curve of your hip and left them resting there, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Okay, okay,” you readjusted yourself with your hands on your face, barely peeping through them with a bashful smile. “I’m good, I’m good.”

Planting one more kiss against your skin, he scooted down between your legs, coaxing them open. “I’ll be nice ‘n slow,” he said with a devious smile. “Won’t make you flinch at all.”

“I know, you— liar, ah!” Before you could finish your sentence, he already had one hand on your stomach and the other pushed against your thigh. You arched your back at the cold metal, though you didn’t fault him for it, and reached out to clutch the sheets as he boldly drew his tongue along your folds.

“Izzat good?” Jamison, looking up to you, eyes searching for a response.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, reigning in your surprise. “Thanks.”

With a satisfied purr, he slowed his pace as he licked along your folds, letting his long, pointed tongue flick playfully between them as his right hand moved towards your mons. You grinded against the added pressure, finding yourself swimming in delight while his thumb circled around your clit.

His technique was crude, but he was _trying_ , which was more than enough as he finally flattened his tongue against your clit, letting its heat sit there momentarily before he dragged it off and replaced it with his lips.

Toes curling in the air, you threw your head back. “J-J—”

Jamison stayed put, giving your bud a gentle suck while his fiery eyes shot up at you.

 _“_ Just _like that!”_ you wailed, resisting the urge to thrash under his attention.

He grunted softly, and locked his lips around it even tighter. Tracing some of your own slick around your entrance with a finger, he kept that going for a couple moments before you reached a hand over to the prosthesis hooked around your leg.

“Yes, please,” you sighed, barely able to latch onto his forearm. “ _Please_.”

Teasingly humming a tune into your petals, Jamison thumbed your entrance, and acted as if he didn’t hear.

“Please…” you begged. “You can’t just— _Jamison,_ please _..._ ”

Pulling himself up with a giggle, he grinned with a confident nod. “That’s the ticket, love.” Licking his lips, he went back down to the precious space between your legs, fixated on drawing out more gasps from you.

You arched your back as he inserted a finger, giving little time before introducing the second one. Growing limp at his work, you mewled and allowed him to run his tongue around your clit over and over again. Jamison’s thumb ran between your folds as he gently pumped his fingers inside you, doing his best to hold back his excitement as he helped you stretch around them.

Jamison giggled against your plush thigh and gently nibbled on it, granting you a few seconds of reprieve before going back to help you hit your peak.

“I’m close, Jame—” you breathed. “I’m so close.”

Hooking his fingers at a deliciously tight angle, he pumped them in and out as you pushed your hips towards him with a desperate moan.  

“C’mon, firework,” he chuckled against your skin. “Light up for me, yeah?”

He quickened his pace, and gave your clit a final, long kiss as you spasmed, your walls tightening around his fingers. Jamison laughed as you came, and pulled out to gently rub your warmth, helping ease you down from your high. Noticing you shakingly reaching towards him, he licked your slick off his fingers and returned to your side with a smile.

You felt him give your hand a quick squeeze as he kissed your cheek. “How was that?” Jamison said into your ear, noting how limp the rest of your body became compared to your heaving chest.

Turning your head to face him, you laughed softly and cupped his face. “I give it a ten.”

His hand ran over you briefly, gliding over your breasts and teasing your nipples. With a soft gasp, you leaned into the contact, and returned the gesture by slowly letting your hand slide down his lower stomach.

Gloriously disheveled, you smirked and kissed him. “Mind if I return the favor?”

Jamison withdrew his hand and looked at you from under knitted brows. “Please do—! I mean, er, y’sure you’re not tired? You—?”

You gave him a reassuring nod. “I’m not— Jamison, why would I be tired? I mean, unless you’re done—”

“No, no! I mean—” He paused, mumbling something under his breath.

“... What is it, babe?”

“I wanna do this right. Us, I mean.” His voice dipped in a way you never heard before. “Couldn’t forgive meself if I messed this up…”

“Messed this up?”

He sighed and pouted, as if half-expecting you to read his mind, and quickly pointed his finger between you and him. “Heard some folk talking. Said I might be _too much_ for you… Might scare you off eventually…”

You narrowed your eyes in concern while lovingly massaging the back of his neck. “Who? What made them say that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Roadie, too, said you’re a keeper, that I should do everythin’ I can—”

“I appreciate that, but you _are_ ,” you said, rubbing his shoulder. “Since when do you care about what other people think?”

It was subtle, but you noticed a vulnerable drop in Jamison’s voice. “I don’t wanna scare you off.”

“You wouldn’t. I’m still here for a reason. Sometimes you’re hard to keep up with, but you do listen, and I’m _telling_ you I’d be _happy_ to keep going _now_.”

The amber in Jamison’s eyes were momentarily lost as he narrowed them, pupils moving across the space between you like he were focused on a dense book. “I don’t wanna stop, then…”

You thumbed his cheekbones, and let your hands rest on the sides of his face, as if you were about to tell him a secret. “Yeah?” A couple seconds as he nodded. “Me neither.” Giving him a deep kiss, you felt him hum reverently against your lips as he pulled you on top of him, the slick between your thighs heating up again as you felt his member twitch against your leg.

There were goosebumps along his legs as you made your way between them; you felt like he was doing everything he could to stay very still for you, given his history of being very, _very_ grabby.

“Good?” you asked on your knees. “Yeah?”

The acute slope of his chest filled with air as he took in a deep breath. “Always with you.”

“Good,” you said, leaning downwards to wrap a hand around his length. Your other hand rested on his thin leg – all sinew and muscle – as you eased into stroking him.

Hips reflexively jerking at the contact, he settled back into the sheets with his prosthesis digging into the blanket.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you chuckled, running your tongue up and down his shaft, content that he relaxed his muscles and soaked in your touch.

He wheezed as you enveloped the tip with your mouth, rolling your tongue around it as precum beaded between your lips. Grasping the base with your other hand, you bobbed your head, trying not to giggle as he delightfully sputtered out a string of gibberish in response.

“Too fast?” you asked while taking in a breath.

“N-no!” he blurted. “That’s— oh— that’s _aces_ , possum—”

You brought another hand to his sac, and gently massaged the sensitive flesh as he tried his best not to writhe beneath you. Shaking, he raised his head to get a good look at you, and moaned at the sight of your hollowed cheeks, throwing his head back down into the pillow like clockwork.

“That’s right, Jamie,” you crooned once you released the tip from your lips with a loud _pop!_ Doubling your speed, you varied the intensity of your grasp as you stroked him, keeping a careful eye on what a nearly incoherent, babbling mess he became. Though, if you knew anything about Jamison in the bedroom by now, it was that he was never the quietest of partners.

“You’re the stars, possum—” he panted heavily, throwing an arm over his eyes, his other hand still digging into the blanket. “Traveled around the— _ah-ugh_ — traveled ‘round the world and I can’t think of anythin’ better than you—”  

With his length back in your mouth, you didn’t have time to respond to his confession, but knew he was close to the edge. Withdrawing yourself, you gave his tip a final kiss — a dutiful reciprocation of his earlier efforts — and pumped him until he finally cried out.

Thrusting his hips upwards, his moans elevated to a fit of giggles and praise while some of his cum splattered across your hands and chest. A small bit caught on your chin, but you unceremoniously wiped it — and the splashes on your hands — away onto the sheets before licking off the excess. Moving to straddle Jamison, you gently seated yourself on his lower belly and resisted the temptation to grind yourself on him.

“M’sorry, made a mess—”

You shushed him with a kiss. “I’m not gonna worry about that right now. That’s what washing machines are for, babe.”

His cheeks were red, the tip of his nose darkened comically like a cherry as he gave you a look of pure admiration. “Ta, lovely. Really— I jus’ think you’re grand, you’re— _oh-ho-ho..._ ”

Carding your fingers through his wild hair, he purred as you massaged his bald spots. He kissed you along your jawline before coaxing you to roll over onto your back, snorting as you yelped in ecstatic compliance.

Jamison caught his breath beside you, and rested his head in the welcoming space between your breasts. Tufts of his hair tickled your chin, leaving you to laugh in delight. Kissing along the soft curves of your chest, he looked at you with the utmost reverence as you thumbed his cheek.

You watched him for a while as he settled comfortably, letting him rise and fall with your breathing, letting him hold your hand as though this was the first reprieve he’d encountered in a long time. Idly playing with his hair, you basked happily with him. “This is nice,” you said tenderly, wanting to ease any residual concern on his part. “I’m glad you found me when you did.”

He rose, nuzzling you softly before propping himself on his hands. “It is, yeah? It’s real nice.” He radiated warmth even when you weren’t skin-to-skin. “D-do you want to, er, go for the grande finale?” A nervous chuckle.

“I’m ready if you are,” you cooed, giggling as he grinned eagerly back.

“I’m ready,” he smirked. “So very, very, very ready.”

“Glad to hear it.” You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to gently stroke him while you spread your legs. Biting your lips, you whispered devilishly into his ear as he bucked into your grasp. “I want you, Jamison Fawkes. So very, very, very much.”

The junker unwittingly blushed, and then laughed loudly. He angled his hips towards your entrance and pushed his forehead against yours.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, slowly pressing the head of his cock against the heat of your petals.“Y-Yeah?”

You giggled again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yeah— ah!”

He snatched the air from your throat as he inched into you — he was trying to be careful, having learned something new from each previous encounter. The first couple times, after he’d grown to trust you more, he was clumsy, too enthusiastic, too fast. You corrected him immediately each time — he wasn’t grossly immature, just inexperienced. And while you weren’t much more seasoned in comparison, there was a mutual desire to make each other happy, and that was enough for both of you.

The sound of him stifling a giggle brought you back to the moment. It was contagious, leaving you to snort in response. “Deeper,” you urged him. “I’m okay, babe.”

“You’re feeling so _— hng —_ good, firework,” Jamison wheezed, the speed of his pace quickening. “Never thought I’d meet a soul— _oh—”_

You both grunted in unison as Jamison finally sunk all the way inside of you. He cupped the back of your head, his blackened nails lost in the mousled sections of your hair. His hips were rocking back and forth, an unpredictable rhythm of deep and shallow plunges into your core.

“Keep going,” you panted, catching your breath against his lips. “Please. I love feeling you in me like this.”

The talk was just as much as for you as him, hearing yourself say those words guiding you ever close to a powerful climax as you gave each other another round of attention.

“I’ll take you to the moon, possum,” he chuckled. “I swear I will.”

“Such a tempting offer, Mister Fawkes,” you responded in kind, nearly out of breath but desperate to kiss him. “But I’m okay here on Earth.”

Jamison licked his lips; the sight of you like this _—_ writhing beneath him in pleasure _—_ left him slack-jawed. “You’re right. The view is much better down here _—_ ”

You laughed as he lost his train of thought, your own heart racing, drowning everything out in your head as you ground yourself against him.

“So close,” he squeezed his eyelids shut, discolored skin almost flushing as he climbed to his peak. “M’just so close, possum,” Jamison whined.

You crooned into his ear, and fisted some of his hair into your hand. “Go on, babe. Let me feel you...”

That request was all it took. He moaned passionately against the curve of your throat as he released himself inside of you; layered your sensitive flesh with kisses as your cries met his crescendo.

“ _—_ Love you,” he blurted without any forethought, nearly a whimper as he dropped his cheek against your shoulder, uttering your name with sticky-sweet sincerity. “I… love you.” His hips slowed until they hit a fatigued stop _—_ boneless, spent.

A subtle gasp hit your lungs, but you locked your legs around his waist to keep him in place before he could jerk away in embarrassment. Jamison remained frozen in shock, still inside you, still arched over you like you were a meal about to be snatched from sight. His chest heaved against yours, years of scarring and tissue damage a stark contrast against the plush contours of your body.

Right as you opened your mouth, he rambled, “Roadie warned me about spouting stupid— that was too fast. I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” you hummed, still wanting to be full with him. “Stay here with me, Jamison.” You rubbed his shoulder. “Please don’t go anywhere.”

He stammered, surprised at your reaction.

Recognizing his anxiety, the delicate pads of your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, soothing him with gentle circular motions. And then, you coaxed his face to yours. “There’s nothing to worry about. I love you, too, Jamie,” you said softly.

The yellow of his eyes sparked with a mixture of bashfulness and gratitude as you kissed him.

When you realized he had calmed down, his sleepy face smiling at you, you slacked your legs, letting them drop back down to the sheets. Jamison pulled out slowly, but the returning sensation of feeling empty again made you ache.

“R-really?” he asked. “You…?”

“Yes,” you said, tugging him to lay beside you. “Of course I do.” You swept back a loose lock of his hair so you could look into his wide, round eyes. “For a long enough time now.”

“I was ‘fraid you’d just up and leave,” he admitted, pupils darting around your features.

“You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, the corners of his lips curling into a subtle smile. “That’s right.”

“Are you good?”

He exhaled deeply, and delicately played with some loose strands of your hair with his prosthetic hand. “Yeah, real good.”

“Good.” You massaged his upper arm before pausing for a moment.

His tall body curled around yours while you curiously slid a hand down between your thighs. You scissored your fingers as you pulled them back to your chest, smirking shamelessly as your combined fluids stuck together on your hand.

“Lemme,” he said, and put your digits in his mouth. He sucked on them for a second, and kissed your palm when he was done. “I like how we taste.”

You kissed him with a deep hum _.“_ Me, too,” you giggled.

He wanted to hold your hand again, so you let him, savoring this safe haven as your fingers laced together. You turned to him, burying your face into his chest, gently massaging his palm with your thumb while he melted into you.

“Glad I didn’t say something stupid,” he said, voice growing quieter and quieter.

“No, not stupid. Never stupid. I’m glad you said it,” you replied, taking in his body heat like a sponge before adding, “I’ve felt the same way for a good while. You’re just braver than I am, and I love that about you.”

Jamison wasn’t sure what to say, mouth opening and closing to form some sort of response to the compliment but thinking of none other than a genuine smile. The two of you shared a warm few seconds of silence until he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your crown, his bushy brows straightening out. “Say... say the thing again, yeah? I wanna hear you say it again.”

You chuckled. “I love you, Jamison.”

“Again.”

“I love you, Jamison.” A little more melodiously, that time.

He said your name and purred into your ear, dreamily looking at you through half-lidded eyes. “Can we stay in for a bit longer?”

“I have no plans for the rest of the day.” You pulled the comforter over you two and turned to teasingly wiggle your butt against him. “We can stay in as long as you want. Dinner later?”

“Absolutely,” he tittered, kissing your shoulder.

It wasn’t long after until he was out like a light, his prosthetic arm possessively thrown over you while you soaked in his body heat. It was a little heavy, but you could handle that, its weight bringing a greater sense of security, if anything. Quickly pecking his knuckles, you smiled and laid your head back down on the pillow, joining him in a much-needed nap.


End file.
